Performing in Cologne, Jonathan denounces Joseph Beuys. Lecturing at the Skowhegan School of Painting (with a disco ball instead of slides), he tells students to ''get a studio assistant or get married.'' In some of the funniest if most esoteric bits, he refers to other artists only as ''the Surveillance Lady, the Catholic Hang-Ups Guy, the Bundled Sticks Lady, the Duct-Tape Guy'' and so on. A few are named, including David Salle, whose watercolors Mr. Smit's seem to parody, and Peter Halley. ''He has his own magazine,'' frets Jonathan, referring to Mr. Halley's position as founding publisher of Index. ''I want my own plane.''

In the video ''Jonathan Gets Clean,'' the artist, now in recovery, visits his evil dealer (expertly played by the Chelsea art dealer John Post Lee) who insists on paying him in cocaine and then calls the cops. The videos could use some editing with an eye to eliminating the lamer jokes. Still, as Mr. Smit repeatedly implodes, a rather pitiable vulnerability emerges. ''Hey,'' Jonathan whines, ''I'm an artist. I'm supposed to be a beacon of light.'' ROBERTA SMITH